Chapter 3: The Boss is Her Father

Chapter 3: Her Daughter’s Father Is the Boss

The initial buzz had faded, but "Song Tan" still lingered at the tail end of the trending list. Public curiosity had shifted from shock to speculation about the child’s father.

Song Tan wasn’t worried. The father himself didn’t even know he was a father; anyone who could unearth the truth must have been hiding under the bed that night.

She merely glanced at the post before exiting Weibo.

Perhaps due to her past obsession with trending topics as an actress, she now found the app repulsive and loathed the baseless gossip that spread like wildfire.

Besides, she had no time for idle chatter. More pressing matters awaited.

First, a kindergarten. Song Chuqing was born overseas and had developed social difficulties due to maladjustment, so an international bilingual kindergarten was the priority. Given Song Tan’s own public profile, privacy and a high-quality educational environment were especially crucial.

Zhao Geyun recommended one, praising its facilities, resources, and staff, noting that the principal was a renowned international child education expert.

Song Tan took Song Chuqing to visit. The principal personally greeted them and, after chatting with Xiao Chu for a bit, took Song Tan aside. "Ms. Song, we’d be delighted to have her. You can tour our school, and then she can attend for a couple of days before you make a final decision."

Song Tan hesitated. "Principal, Xiao Chu, she…"

The principal seemed to grasp her unspoken concern, her smile fading. "Does she lack playmates her age?"

"Yes. There weren’t many neighbors in our overseas community, and Xiao Chu grew up mostly with me. She didn’t have many opportunities to interact with children her age. She attended two kindergartens abroad, but both ended poorly. The psychologist said she has social anxiety."

The principal then asked, "What about her father?"

Song Tan paused, gritted her teeth, and answered truthfully, "He’s not around."

The principal nodded understandingly before offering a gentle smile. "Don’t worry. The term ‘anxiety’ shouldn’t be used lightly with children. A child under four is still growing—how can she already have social anxiety? But we can’t ignore it either. Proper guidance and a healthy, safe environment are crucial for a child’s growth."

Song Tan had a sudden realization. That was true—Song Chuqing’s personality wasn’t inherently problematic. Difficulty adjusting didn't mean she had a disorder. She shouldn’t prematurely label her daughter, as a parent’s emotions could also influence the child.

On Monday, Song Chuqing started kindergarten. Song Tan accompanied her for two days, staying outside the classroom and not interfering with the teachers’ instruction. She only met with Xiao Chu during breaks, gradually reducing the frequency of their encounters.

Song Chuqing behaved exceptionally well—no tears, no tantrums. The teachers were highly responsible, actively helping her integrate into the class. The other children were also warm and friendly, and by the afternoon of the first day, Xiao Chu was already playing with toys alongside them.

The next morning, there was an English class. Song Chuqing was in the middle class, where they learned simple words and short sentences.

Song Tan watched from outside the classroom. Aware of Xiao Chu’s situation, the teacher made a point to give her an opportunity to speak. The little girl, perhaps recalling unpleasant memories, hesitated to open her mouth and instinctively looked toward the window. Song Tan immediately stepped away from the window.

The teacher was incredibly patient, walking over and gently asking in English, "Hanna, where did you live before?"

The question was simple enough. Song Chuqing quietly replied, "I lived in London."

"Wow, that sounds like a beautiful place. Hanna, could you tell us a bit about it?"

Slowly encouraged, Xiao Chu spoke more boldly, still in English. "Mm, I love going to museums with Mommy. There are lots of Chinese artifacts there—all very beautiful! Mommy said they’re ours and should be in Chinese museums!"

Her English was perfectly clear and confident. The other children were amazed.

Led by the teacher, the whole class applauded her. One little boy even exclaimed loudly, "Song Chuqing, you’re amazing!"

Song Tan watched her daughter’s flushed, shy face, her own eyes welling up.

The principal, who had quietly approached, watched alongside her and remarked, "Never underestimate the power of a child’s growth."

Song Tan wiped her eyes and lifted her head proudly. Indeed, her Xiao Chu was the best!

That afternoon, she left early to visit a nearby mall. It housed a cake shop she used to love—she wasn’t sure if it was still there, but she wanted to reward Song Chuqing for her bravery today.

Ten minutes later, Song Tan emerged with a tiny cake that cost a fortune, her heart bleeding.

Song Chuqing, this little money pit!

Returning to the kindergarten to pick her up, Song Tan took off her daughter’s small backpack, said goodbye to the teacher, and walked hand-in-hand with Xiao Chu.

"Mommy, what are we eating tonight?"

"We’re having dinner with Auntie Geyun later," Song Tan said, holding up the small cake. "Mommy bought Xiao Chu a cake!"

"Wow!" Song Chuqing cheered, waving her hands excitedly. "Cake! Cake!"

Hailing a cab, Song Tan gazed at the bustling city streets and sighed inwardly. Since returning to China, expenses kept piling up—rent, buying a home, Xiao Chu’s tuition, setting up her own studio, and now needing to buy a car. Her pockets were being drained dry.

She’d earned practically nothing for the first three years abroad, with money flowing out daily. Only in the last two years did she break even. Now, back in China, expense after expense was draining her savings. No bank account could survive this.

With Song Chuqing settled, the next step was figuring out how to make more money.

...

Dinner was at their usual private Sichuan restaurant. Zhao Geyun had already ordered in advance.

Song Chuqing had video-called Zhao Geyun a few times before, so she sweetly greeted "Auntie Geyun" right away.

Song Tan asked the owner for a kid's utensil set, and Xiao Chu sat in her little chair, ready to eat.

First, she pushed aside the leafy greens. Then, she meticulously picked off every single spring onion from the cola chicken wings, followed by the ginger shreds from the boiled shrimp—her precision was unusually precise for a child under four.

Zhao Geyun watched for a while before giving a knowing look to Song Tan, who instantly understood.

Yes, Song Chuqing was still a picky eater.

Plain boiled greens? No. Vegetables with odd flavors? No. Fish or lamb with any hint of gaminess? Absolutely not. Every mealtime was a negotiation of threats and rewards.

Song Tan couldn’t help asking, "Have you ever eaten with… what's-his-name? Is he picky too?"

As a manager, Zhao Geyun had more opportunities to interact with higher-ups, but unfortunately, Song Tan didn’t get an answer. "When would I ever get to eat with him? The only time was that celebration dinner before you went abroad—"

Suddenly, Zhao Geyun’s eyes widened in realization. "Wait, was it that night?"

Song Tan silently lowered her head before letting out a quiet, "Ah."

It was that night.

Zhao Geyun nearly exploded. If not for the child present, she would've cursed. She suppressed her outburst. "No wonder I couldn’t find you anywhere that night. So you were in bed with the boss!"

"Stop talking…"

"You dared to do it, but I can’t say it? And you even ended up with a baby!"

Song Tan wanted to cry. "I didn’t mean to get a life out of it…"

Their voices rose slightly in the last two exchanges, prompting Xiao Chu to blink her big eyes curiously. "Mommy, what’s ‘getting a life’?"

Song Tan quickly patted her head. "Nothing, keep eating."

"Oh, okay."

Zhao Geyun shot Song Tan a look—some topics weren’t for little ears. "Outside?"

The restaurant environment was safe, but the two didn't go far, staying in the small garden where they could still see Song Chuqing by the window with a glance.

Zhao Geyun cut straight to the chase, asking, "Why did you suddenly come back?"

Song Tan didn’t hide it from her. "Xiao Chu is a bit afraid of socializing with strangers now. I wanted to change her environment."

Zhao Geyun was utterly surprised and skeptical. Song Tan sighed helplessly, "Really. At home, she’s bold, but outside, she’s like fine china—breaks at the slightest pressure."

"Alright, you need to be careful now. It doesn’t matter what happens to you, but there’s still a child involved."

"I know."

"Don’t think it’s that simple. Nowadays, people only care about ‘clicks’ and don't give a damn about your well-being. ‘Single unwed mother,’ ‘father unknown’—these labels make you a hot topic."

Song Tan wasn’t too concerned. "If I cared about these things, I wouldn’t have had Xiao Chu in the first place. They have their morals, I have mine. Nobody gets to judge the other."

She enjoyed the high rewards of being an actress, so naturally, she had to bear the risk of public gossip. But others’ opinions weren’t her standard for living. Acting was just a job that paid well for her.

Her only goal now was to protect Song Chuqing.

Zhao Geyun shook her head. True, no one could make Song Tan do anything. She shared the results of her recent inquiries: "Mr. Ji is unmarried, no girlfriend. He’s been single these past few years."

The woman across from her seemed to relax. "Really?"

"That’s what a few friends told me, anyway. Why that face? Happy?"

"Of course." If he had a family, my little one would have to suffer with her.

Zhao Geyun didn’t know what was going through her mind. "He really doesn’t know?"

"You didn’t even know. How would he?"

"What about that night?"

Song Tan hesitated. "…I’m not sure."

The lighting had been dim that night, barely enough to make out faces. But the situation had been chaotic, and she’d snuck out before daybreak. She wasn’t sure if Ji Fuxi knew it was her.

Zhao Geyun let out a long sigh. "When are you going to talk to him?"

"After I settle Xiao Chu down. She just got back—let her adjust first."

"Xiao Chu, Xiao Chu, it’s always Xiao Chu. What about you? What are your plans?"

Before leaving the country, she’d already been accepted into the London Film School for film production. Because of Xiao Chu, she’d delayed for a year and spent three tough years completing her studies.

Actors who excelled often turned to directing. Song Tan had always been a quick learner—the time wasn't wasted.

Transitioning from the spotlight to a rookie behind the scenes, Zhao Geyun thought she was being foolish. "Do you really have to go after such tough gigs? People will pay to watch you act, but not necessarily to see you direct. Do you know how many people are fighting for the chance to see the return of an Oscar-winning actress’s first film?"

With ten years in the industry, Zhao Geyun had never met an artist as ambitious yet indifferent as Song Tan. She’d endured hardships for four years to rise to fame, becoming one of the most valuable young actresses in film history. Yet she’d turned her back on fame and fortune without hesitation, switching mid-career to directing—something Zhao Geyun still couldn’t understand.

Song Tan chuckled. "Are they fighting for me, or for the sensationalism of an unwed mother and former Oscar-winning actress making a comeback?"

Zhao Geyun had no comeback.

The woman looked down at her bare nails, her delicate brows furrowing slightly. She hadn’t had a manicure since Xiao Chu was born—she really ought to make time for one soon.

When she lifted her head again, her lips curved, her brows arching slightly. Her stunningly beautiful face, that could launch a thousand ships, was captivating. "I think this sensationalism is just fine. Geyun, would you be willing to be my agent again?"

The future was uncertain. As a public figure, she might face terrible backlash. Or what if Ji Fuxi really tried to take custody?

No matter what, she needed to strengthen her ability to protect Song Chuqing—with a proper career and money.

She hadn’t had any major roles in years. Five years had cost her most connections. Directing a film now would be a real challenge, so she needed to take an acting job first.

She’d never lacked the courage to start over. This time would be no different.

...

Zhao Geyun moved quickly, first securing her an assistant—someone experienced and meticulous.

The girl, Zhong Chen, had a round face, wore glasses, and was quiet and bookish. At their first meeting, she was starstruck into silence.

Song Tan emphasized, "Normally, my assistant only handles work-related tasks. When I rest, you can too. But now it’s different. If I’m too busy filming, I might need you to help take my daughter to or from school, or look after her temporarily."

Zhong Chen recalled the recent news and bit back her questions. "I understand."

On the third day, Zhao Geyun sent a message: "There’s a private dinner tonight. Come with me."

Private dinners—haunts of the elite, where deals get made. There would likely be directors or producers there. Song Tan agreed immediately.

Sure enough, Zhao Geyun added, "Director Fang will be there too. He’s working on a blockbuster for next year’s National Day release—*The Great Dream*. It’s a fantasy comedy on the surface. The female lead is a dreamweaver, responsible for humanity’s bizarre dreams and loves playing tricks in them. The film has three main storylines—family, friendship, and love. The protagonist gradually becomes immersed and must ultimately choose between dreams and reality."

Zhao Geyun added, "I don’t have the script yet. Think about it yourself first."

Director Fang was a major player in the industry, selecting actors based solely on skill.

Song Tan wasn’t familiar with him—their only interaction had been when he handed her an award.

Regardless, this was the best opportunity. She had to go all out.

At 4:30 p.m., she picked up the little girl and handed her over to Zhong Chen.

Zhong Chen had been visiting her home frequently these past two days, and Xiao Chu was getting used to her.

Her wardrobe lacked proper evening wear, so Song Tan opted for a casual suit, styled her hair, and applied makeup—sleek and professional, nothing special, but still an 8/10.

When she stepped out of the bedroom, Zhong Chen’s eyes widened.

Song Tan’s triple-crown acting awards were 70% talent and 30% this face—top-tier, born to be a leading lady.

Beautiful people never needed elaborate outfits. Their figures and features were their most powerful weapons. Overly dazzling clothes would only overshadow them.

If the Song Tan of five years ago was a dazzling red rose, the current her was more like a snow-white peony—graceful and dignified, deserving of the title "nation’s beauty." Zhong Chen couldn’t help but sigh, "Sister Tan, you’re stunning!"

The woman’s eyes sparkled with a smile as she turned to the little one. "Baby, does Mommy look pretty?"

Song Chuqing launched herself into her arms, gushing sweetly, "Mommy is the prettiest!"

Song Tan could always rely on Xiao Chu for positive emotional feedback. She pressed a bright lipstick smack onto her soft cheek. "Xiao Chu is the cutest in the whole world!"

At 6:30 p.m., Song Tan drove to the hotel.

The car—a modest Audi, over 600,000 yuan—had been purchased recently. It pained her when she paid for it.

Gripping the steering wheel, she pep-talked herself. *This had to work tonight.*

She’d studied film production abroad and often tagged along to events with her professors, but this was her first time back home. She might run into former colleagues—actors or directors—and couldn't shake the nerves.

Zhao Geyun was waiting for her in the parking lot. At the sight of her, she frowned, "This is what you're wearing?"

Song Tan lifted her chin, "What's wrong with it? My daughter says I'm the prettiest in the world."

"Such a little charmer."

After the teasing, Zhao Geyun turned serious, "Landing Director Fang's female lead is no easy feat. His standards are the highest in the industry. Whether you get selected is one thing, but Song Tan, I’m asking you seriously—after five years away, do you still have it?"

Song Tan wasn’t a trained actress. She majored in photography in college, but after the Song family went bankrupt, she lost her financial support and was forced into the entertainment industry.

Perhaps it was a natural gift—she had a natural talent for acting.

Still, she wasn’t professionally trained, and winning the Triple Crown awards felt like sheer luck to her.

Aware of her limitations, she went abroad to study and start anew.

She studied directing but never neglected acting. A good director needs to understand acting best.

Song Tan had always been unshakably confident. "Of course I can."

Zhao Geyun looked at the determination on the woman’s face and smiled faintly. Pride and confidence stemmed from having the strength to back up one’s ambitions—and she did.

The two entered the banquet hall together.

The luxury hotel’s banquet hall was extravagant, alive with the clink of glasses and lively conversation, its centerpiece a dazzling crystal chandelier.

As soon as Song Tan stepped inside, the familiar scent of decadence hit her—something she had absorbed far too much of during those three or four years.

The hall quieted down at some point. Celebrities and socialites near the entrance turned to look, their collective gaze like a spotlight.

The woman at the center of the beam curved her lips and nodded gracefully.

A wave of whispers spread across the banquet hall.

The entertainment industry had few real friends, and success attracts envy. Back then, when she won three major awards in succession, insiders and outsiders alike speculated it was due to capital influence, eyeing her with suspicion.

But five years had passed. Now, people just wanted gossip.

A familiar actress gasped in surprise, "Song Tan?"

More eyes turned toward her.

Song Tan walked further in, greeting the actress who had called her name, "Peng Wan, long time no see."

"What brings you here?"

Song Tan got straight to the point, "I heard Director Fang is here. Thought I’d try my luck."

Peng Wan gaped before she quickly understood, "You want the female lead in *The Great Dream*?"

"I can't just walk into Director Fang's lead role," Song Tan glanced around, "Where is he, by the way?"

Peng Wan instinctively pointed toward a private room at the edge of the hall, "I think he’s in there."

"Thanks."

As Song Tan turned to leave, Peng Wan hastily called out, "Song Tan, you're making a comeback?"

The woman looked back, a dazzling smile that outshone the lights of the hall blooming at the corners of her eyes. "Yes, I’m back."

She walked on, meeting curious stares as she walked. Reporters raised their cameras, and she didn’t shy away, smiling generously for them.

She also exchanged brief greetings with familiar faces in the industry.

Tomorrow—no, tonight’s hot topic would undoubtedly be: "Song Tan Returns."

Just a few steps from the private room, someone called her name.

Song Tan paused and turned.

Xue Wanwan. The two had always been at odds.

"Five years apart, and the moment Song Tan reappears, she’s making waves. How very impressive."

"…"

"Who’s the sugar daddy of your daughter? Or is it some foreigner? I heard you went abroad." Xue Wanwan glanced at the room behind her and raised a brow, "Wanting Director Fang’s role—can your foreigner help you with that?"

Song Tan's forced smile slowly faded.

Zhao Geyun, standing beside her, couldn’t take it anymore. "Xue Wanwan, mind your tongue. The media’s everywhere here."

Xue Wanwan didn’t care. She shrugged, "The more media, the better. Tomorrow we’ll both be on the trending list—let me bask in Song Tan’s spotlight." She took two steps closer, delivering a threat, "Song Tan, listen—the female lead in *The Great Dream* is mine. Don't you dare compete with me!"

Song Tan had never bothered arguing with her. Like a yapping dog—all bark, no bite. She pressed her tongue to her teeth, her voice cool, "Fair competition. If you have what it takes to win, I won’t say a word."

"Oh please, do you even know who the investor for *The Great Dream* is?"

Zhao Geyun leaned in and whispered, "Xue Wanwan’s agency is Aijia Entertainment. Aijia answers to Yuanhe Group. Tantan, I just found out…" She hesitated, her expression troubled, "*The Great Dream*’s investor is Yuanhe Group."

The infamous Ji Fuxi.

Xue Wanwan smirked triumphantly, "President Ji isn’t some baby daddy you can control."

The moment the words left her mouth, the air around them stilled, as if someone had hit pause, letting the statement echo through the vast space.

A collective gasp went up.

Song Tan followed the crowd’s gaze and turned, her eyes landing on the tall man standing two steps away, surrounded by people.

Regal and composed, he seemed utterly apart from the noisy banquet hall.

Ji Fuxi’s deep gaze rested on her—unreadable yet intense, and utterly arresting.